


Right Number

by Madlyie



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Because I don't seem to be capable of writing anything else, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-05 01:29:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4160466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madlyie/pseuds/Madlyie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>“There’s a pause on the other end of the line followed by an exasperated, “Oh my god, he totally gave me the wrong number!”” </em><br/> <br/>Enjolras gets an unexpected call and that should be it.<br/>It isn’t.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Right Number

***

 

Enjolras almost falls off his chair when his phone starts ringing. He has been so absorbed in his essay that it takes a moment to connect the sound to the source and then some more seconds to find his phone under the stack of books and paper sheets on his desk.

The unknown number on the display makes him pause.

The only times this happens is usually when, well, someone has to be bailed out what doesn’t happen that often without Enjolras.  

It’s a coincidence, really.

“Hello?” he says as he picks up and is even more surprised when an unfamiliar, male voice answers.

“Hey, hello. Here’s R.”

R? Who the hell is R?

“Sorry, who?”

“Grantaire. From the coffee shop?”

Well, that sounds at least less like a drug dealer alias but still Enjolras is in the middle of writing a very important essay that’s due in two weeks and obviously R, Grantaire doesn’t have to be bailed out so that’s that.

“I think you called the wrong number.”

“Oh sorry, man.”

“It’s okay. Bye,” Enjolras says and hangs up.

A quick glance at the clock on his laptop tells him it’s only half past seven in the evening so he’s pretty right on schedule. As soon as he starts rereading the last sentence his phone rings again.

“Hello?”

“Hey, here’s Grantaire from-”

“The coffee shop,” Enjolras interrupts, “you mentioned that.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line followed by an exasperated, “Oh my god, he totally gave me the wrong number!”

“I am very sorry,” Enjolras deadpans and the man snorts in response.

“Nah, it’s not your fault, man. Some people are assholes.”

Enjolras can’t really object to that.

“I’m really sorry to bother you.”

He sounds so genuine that Enjolras hears himself saying, “For what it’s worth it sounds like he’s the asshole.”

That startles a laugh out of the man, it’s a nice laugh. “Thanks. I appreciate the sentiment.”

“It’s okay,” Enjolras says again. “Bye,” he adds.

“Bye,” Grantaire answers and Enjolras hangs up.

 

The phone doesn’t ring again until a few hours later, meanwhile it has gotten dark outside, Enjolras head hurts. He has read the last sentence of his essay about four times now and it makes absolutely no sense.

His voice sounds hoarse when he picks up the phone without looking at the caller ID because it’s probably Combeferre again telling him to go to sleep.

“Hello?”

It’s not Combeferre.

“Listen, you sound like a decent guy, dude,” Grantaire starts, Enjolras could swear his words are a little bit slurred but he’s not totally drunk. There are noises of people in the background.

“Did you just call me dude?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he says after a second. “I could also call you bro. Mate? Lad?”

Enjolras rolls his eyes even though the other man can’t see him. “Or you could not do that.”

“You didn’t give me a name so I had to improvise a little.”

“Enjolras,” he says what’s followed by another pause.

Then, “What kind of name is that?”

“I don’t know, what kind of name is R?” Enjolras retorts and to his surprise the other man laughs again.

“Touché. Alright _Enjolras_ ,” despite slightly slurring the other words he pronounces the name perfectly, “why would you give a perfectly nice, not creepy guy a wrong number?”

“Really? You’re calling me because you’re still hung up on that?”

“Maybe that was a blow to my already really low self-esteem? Or maybe I’m just looking for an excuse because you have a really nice voice?”

Enjolras doesn’t sit alone in front of his laptop in the middle of the night and blushes at that, he _doesn’t._ Only that he does.

“You’re totally blushing, aren’t you?” Grantaire asks and he sounds absolutely delighted.  
“I’m not,” Enjolras snaps back. “Maybe he gave you the wrong number because your flirting techniques are horrible?”

“I’ll let you know my flirting techniques are just fine. And I wasn’t even flirting with him,” he insists. “Okay, maybe just a little bit but only until I realized he was there with his boyfriend.”

“Why would you ask for his number then?”

“Yeah well, here’s the thing.” A female voice interrupts, saying something that goes under in the mess of voices and music. Grantaire responds something that sounds like a muffled, “No, no, Chetta, you’re biased. I need an objective-” Then some more voices and he’s back on the phone. “Sorry, you still there?”  
“Yes,” Enjolras says and doesn’t really know _why_ he hasn’t hung up yet.

“Great du-, Enjolras. Okay, so here’s the situation. I’m doing this project thing for my art class where I paint people as greek gods slash goddesses and I ran into this guy who totally looks like Hermes so I go over there and ask him if I can paint him for educational purposes in a totally professional, not creepy way and he was really nice and I was really not creepy.”

“That’s-” Enjolras starts and thinks, not really what I expected. “Not creepy, I guess,” he says instead.

“Yes!” Grantaire exclaims triumphant and Enjolras doesn’t know why he’s sure the other man just made a victory fist.

 “Was that everything?”

“Yeah, no wait, actually not. Do you want to grab a coffee some time?”

Enjolras startles at the question. He opens his mouth to say something. It starts with a very intelligent, “Uhm,” before he shakes his head to clear his thoughts and says, “I don’t even know you.”  
“Yeah well, I don’t know you either, I mean you could be a very nice sounding serial killer or something. We established already that _I_ am not creepy. Also you still haven’t hung up on me.”

Enjolras frowns. “Maybe I should have.”

“But you haven’t.” Grantaire laughs and okay yes, it’s a really nice laugh and he’s funny and nice and sarcastic and Enjolras is sleep-deprived and the word coffee does things to him in this state of mind.

He doesn’t hang up. “Okay.”

“What really?” Grantaire sounds as surprised as Enjolras feels but also happy

“Yes, I also can’t believe I’m doing this,” he says trying to sound deadpan and failing miserably.

He smiles when Grantaire laughs again.

 

***

 

Since they have each others phone numbers they agree to meet for a coffee two days later in a small café only a few blocks from Enjolras’s apartment. He has been surprised when Grantaire has suggested the Musain because it isn’t what you would call a well-known hot spot but they agreed that the coffee is one of the best in Paris.

Enjolras is more than a little bit nervous because really, he doesn’t have a lot of dates, especially not with strangers who have a nice laugh and happen to dial the wrong number three, or well, two times and the third time on purpose in the middle of the night.  
He tries not to dwell on that when he realizes he has no idea what Grantaire actually looks like, not that it matters, but it also doesn’t give him any possibility to recognize him so he pulls out his phone. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to write, something like, “By the way, I’m the one in the red jacket” or something like this?

Enjolras looks around to see if there’s someone else in a red jacket when a person drops down onto the chair next to him and startles him out of his thoughts.  
He’s about Enjolras’s age, a little bit older maybe, with black, unruly curls and green-blue eyes that are wide open and astonished and wow, really gorgeous.

He starts talking with no prompt whatsoever and practically blurts out, “Can I paint you?” Then his expression turns absolutely horrified. “Oh my god, it _does_ sound creepy. Listen, let’s start this again. I’m asking for –”

“Educational purposes and in a totally professional way?”

Grantaire’s eyes widen even more, it looks almost comically and Enjolras smirks.

 

***

 

Later after they talked for hours about everything and nothing Enjolras is convinced Grantaire is sarcastic, on the brink of cynical and gets a rise out of poking holes into every single one of his arguments. He’s also witty, feisty and intelligent and it’s the best discussion Enjolras had in years.

He also has beautiful hands that he never seems to be able to hold still and his eyes change their colour from blue to green when the sun shines through the tall windows of the Musain. He has a really nice laugh, it doesn’t only sounds nice, it’s an all-around beautiful laugh that seems to go though his whole body and Enjolras can’t help smiling every time.

When they say goodbye because Enjolras has to go to his lecture and Grantaire is on his way to his fencing lessons it takes about half a minute before he gets a text that says, “ _At the risk of sounding creepy, my purposes might not be purely professional.”_

Enjolras smiles and texts back, _“Good.”_

***

 

Enjolras kisses Grantaire on their third date when they walk through Paris with their paper cups in one hand, the others brushing at almost every step. He tastes like coffee and smoke and smells like paint and peppermint and his lips are soft against Enjolras’s.

It’s perfect until they break apart, smiling like idiots and Grantaire grins when he says, “Maybe I have to thank that Courfeyrac-guy for giving me the wrong number,” and Enjolras drops his cup and spills coffee all over their feet.

 

***

  
Courfeyrac never lets him live it down. Ever.  
  
***  


**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this fluffy little something. Sorry for mistakes, English isn't my first language but I do my best.  
> I'm also [here](http://vintage-jehan.tumblr.com/) on tumblr if you want to say hi.


End file.
